Midnight Boat Rides at St. Petersburg

There is a distinct Tsarist hangover in St Petersburg. If that doesn't enthuse you, its midnight boat rides surely will...

There is a distinct Tsarist hangover in St Petersburg. If that doesn't enthuse you, its midnight boat rides surely will

The curly haired guide on the motorboat I am jumping into from a pier near Zaharevskaya, Saint Petersburg, shoots unflattering looks. Is it just the strange Russian temperament I've encountered on this trip or can she actually be annoyed at me for arriving two-and-a-half minutes later than 11.30 pm, the reporting time, I wonder. It is only after our twilight cruise zips through narrow canals and reaches the imposing Neva river that I infer her reaction - the bridge we're beholding has begun to creak open from the middle as traffic on both sides and that of click-happy visitors underneath has paused itself.

By ten minutes after midnight, its illuminated ends open fully, dramatically posing against a still-blue sky. Subsequent bridge sightings and sips of 'champanska' make me feel like I'm in a fine coffee table book. Also, note to self: in this far-west Russian city, sunset will happen well past midnight (or won't happen at all one month every year), bridges will creak open at the stroke of midnight and tourist boats will leave just before midnight.

With dozens of channels of St Petersburg serving as arteries to the Neva, it's only fair that one takes the water way to explore it. After Peter the Great discovered this swampland in 1703 and planned it with careful imaginations of Vienna, London and Paris, the result was a heady ode to Europe, which today also bears a silent Tsarist hangover. And the 'kanals' have inspired articulate bridges (539 to be precise, highest in the world) so make sure you tag your architect friends in your Facebook pictures.

Take my weird for it

Always a sucker for history or culture walks, I went into overdrive at St Pete's. Judging by one of the day cruises I took, this city feels like one huge gleaming museum, with its onion-domed churches, lavish palaces and former homes and working spaces of Russia's greatest artists including Pushkin, Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy. However, it didn't need me a guide to spot the reasonable share of Soviet blandness here, for just around corners sculpted with Greek Gods, I'd run into an odd-looking apartment or a defunct prison from the Cold War.

These reminders of the city's military history can be eerie for some, and the lack of English signs or the locals' shy demeanour could only confuse matters.

But then, there are sights of the most opulent buildings (St Isaac's Cathedral, Mariinsky theatre, Winter Palace) which make up for the above and swoop you to the time when St Pete's was Leningrad and further back, when it was the capital of imperial Russia. Throw in some stern-looking, big-nosed modern Russian characters (cabbies, shop attendants, waiters et al) and you'd have a blog-ful of anecdotes.